I bore the brunt of the general’s displeasure as the line slowly moved forward. There really wasn’t much I could do about it, though, so I tried to ignore him as best I could.
Each new person approaching the desk and the studious man seated there gave their name, their talent’s rank, whether it was passive or active, and occasionally they would ask for defining features or traits, if the person didn’t have anything that stood out.
There was no method of tracing deserters in this world beyond talents and skills, so those defining characteristics were the main method of catching those who decided to abandon their oaths.
I highly doubted he would ask me for anything. I had just about the brightest orange hair that anyone had ever seen, April included, and my olive green eyes were pretty distinctive too. I loved them both. April had always lamented her plain hair, and unremarkable beauty. Some of my dreams of the girl had been nothing but hours and hours of her primping and tweaking her appearance in front of a mirror, trying to get her look to be just perfect.
Unfortunately, in this particular circumstance, I would kill for plain brown hair and dark eyes. I wasn’t planning to dessert of course, but if the military did something I found deplorable, it was best to have options.
“This was foolish,” Dad said as we slowly approached the front of the line. Onlookers were silent as their kids and friends slowly approached. The afternoon sun shining through grey clouds and unrelenting fog gave the whole green the aura of an execution. The steady shuffling of footsteps, and the rhythmic sound of a pen on parchment, filled the clearing.
“Next!” cried the man at the desk, and we all took a step, as Oxana signed the page.
“What’s foolish is you standing in this line behind me!” I hissed.
“Who's the parent here, Mera? I’ll decide what’s foolish!”
“What are you going to do, Dad? Farm the trolls to dea–!” I cut off as I remembered. I could hardly believe I’d forgotten. “W-well… Uhm.”
Dad grimaced. “I’ve been a farmer all my life. Till now, I never would’ve considered this. But I won’t let you go off to the rift to die alone. Not when I have the power to protect you, now.”
He held the scythe, and I realized more than one member of the crowd and the soldiers had been eyeing him strangely. The crowd, fearfully, the soldiers with mixed curiosity. They hadn’t yet heard about the Reaper of the Hill as the story was being told.
I wasn’t spreading that one, but some rumors didn’t need a great story teller to spread far and wide it seemed.
I was filled with an overwhelming sense of compassion for my Dad at that moment. I hugged him. He was in his mid forties, closing in on his fifties and yet here he was.
“Love you Dad,” I whispered.
“Love you too, Onion,” he said.
“Could you two keep it down? I’m trying to have a crisis up here!” Reid said.
“I ought to beat you senseless, boy,” Dad said. “It’s your fault we’re in this mess!”
Reid blinked, and turned back to Dad, shock in his eyes. I also pulled out of the hug, backing into Reid.
“My fault!? Where do you get that idea!?” he shouted incredulously.
“You heard me!” Dad hissed.
Reid turned to me. “Is…is he being serious right now?”
I shrugged. I honestly wasn’t sure how Dad was managing to blame Reid for this, but I was sure he’d let us know. Joenal Farmer had always been happy to rant.
“Next!” cried the clerk. We shuffled forward.
There were about thirty of us in all. At least four of which were prior veterans. Dad wasn’t a veteran, and would apparently be joining as a private, same as me.
“If it weren’t for you, Mera would be miles from here, safe and sound!” Dad barked.
I blinked.
“You… you! Horseshit!” I shouted, smacking his broad shoulder. “You… you and Mom and Reid's parents! You’ve all been pushing us together practically since we were babies, and you have the nerve to get mad now that we’re finally acting on it!?”
Dad gave a nervous grin.
My ire faded a little. This whole situation felt surreal.
Dad wasn’t really angry at Reid. He was terrified.
“There’s… nothing stopping you from stepping out of this line, sir.” Reid said. “I’ll keep Mera safe.”
Dad scoffed. “You’ve done a bang up job of that these past few weeks.”
Reid flushed, but I grew livid.
“Dad,” I snarled.
“Next!”
The last person in front of Reid approached the desk.
Dad… seemed to rethink his words. “Sorry, Son. I know… I know you would take care of Mera as best you could, but if I’ve got this, I can help too.”
Reid locked eyes with Dad before nodding grimly.
“I’d guard her with my life,” Reid said.
I flushed, both flattered and irritated at the same time.
“Uh. I’m right here.”
“She has a bad habit of getting into trouble,” Dad said.
Reid chuckled. “As if I don’t know that. Pretty sure I’m going to have to tie us both together with iron cuffs.”
“I’d prefer a ring,” Dad said, “But if they’ll keep someone near her I'll commission some from Sebinet.”
“You both suck.”
“Did you hear about what she did this morning?” Reid asked.
“This morning? No, Naska and I were finally getting a little sleep, but she went off only a few hours ago.”
Reid gulped as the next woman stepped away from the counter.
“I’ll… tell you after this,” he said shakily.
“Next!”
Reid approached the counter.
“What did you do this morning, Mera?” Dad asked, with an almost resigned sigh.
“Uh… I kicked a soldier. And maybe got arrested. Started a bit of a riot. Stopped one too. Met another High Bannerman.”
Dad looked sick.
My hands were sweaty. Was I really doing this?
Well I didn’t really have much of a choice anymore, did I? I’d made my decision the moment I’d jumped through that window and dropkicked a soldier. I was honestly lucky to be alive.
“Active and Uncommon,” I heard Reid say. The man replied softly, and Reid lifted his arm. “Yeah. I have a birthmark here.”
Brown eyes, and brown hair, Reid did not stand out in a crowd. He stood out to me though.
I approached as he walked away, back toward the crowd. I gave him a high five as we walked past one another, and he grinned goofily.
My good mood lasted right up until I finally chanced a glance toward the general again and found him still glaring at me.
Sure, he was probably pissed about Hadra but I could almost feel the enraged pressure emanating from him. Recognition. Mom had been right. What the hell had she done to this guy?
“Name?” the man asked as I stepped up to the desk.
“Elmerina Farmer,” I replied.
Someone in the crowd snorted, and I heard someone else shout. “Storyteller!”
“Talent Rank?”
“Elite,” I replied.
The man raised an eyebrow. I turned and found the General eyeing me just as curiously. I frowned.
“If you’re still mad about Hadra, don’t worry. You’re still getting an Elite talent today,” I told him irritably.
“Speak when spoken to, Private,” he replied. The rage had faded, replaced with irritation, and unless I missed my guess, amusement.
I shrugged and nodded. Uncle Markus was there, looking between me and Dad with an expression like he’d swallowed a brick.
“It’s an active talent,” I replied.
The man nodded. Elite talents were certainly unusual, but I was certainly not the first one he’d recruited and wouldn’t be the last.
I’d been studiously avoiding my talent screen for a while, and I was starting to almost believe the lie myself. I was Elmerina Soldier. I had an elite talent for crafting stuff. Exceptional.
Decidedly not worldshaking.
They weren’t asking for any talent details at the moment, but I assumed all of that would come when we were on the road. The General had made his intentions to leave this evening clear. The bill was still out on whether the army would go Southeast toward Mitoras, or turn back the way he’d come.
“You have four hours. Meet at the main pavilion tent near the Eastern Watchpost then. Next!” he shouted, waving me away.
Dad looked nervous as he stepped up to the desk while I turned around him and walked back past the line, seeing all the nervous faces of people I’d known most of my life.
“Mom knows about this?” I asked as I approached Dad.
He nodded. “She’s in the crowd, but if not for her history with the General, I”m sure she’d be right here. She’s off by Uraleka and Hadra somewhere. Find her.”
He continued on before anyone could get angry with him.
I was mad at him. He shouldn’t be doing this! The army was no place for a farmer nearing his fifties! But… I was glad.
Dad was going with us.
I turned to where Uraleka and Hadra had stood before but found the place surprisingly empty. It seemed Captain Retham hadn’t wanted to tempt the general to ignore the Duchess’s orders and take the girl anyway.
I fully expected to need to push my way through the crowd but I was kind of surprised when they parted for me. I saw Edra there, pushing back the people behind her. Owinda too, as both women nodded to me with respect. There were still tears in Owinda’s eyes.
“Mera Storyteller!”
“Did you hear what she–?”
“This morning! She saved Pretyr! Saw it with my own eyes!”
“Bondcrafter.”
I blinked, feeling a little unnerved as my friends and family parted to let me through. They… hadn’t done that for Reid. They hadn’t done that for anyone.
But they’d stood up for me today. Bystander effect be damned, half the town opposed actual soldiers for me. So, I did what I’d always done. I beamed at them all.
I found Hadra, Captain Retham, Uraleka, and Mom all close by, watching the proceedings from a distance. Mom had her hair tucked firmly into a straw hat as she watched me approach.
“Hi… Mom.”
There were tears in her eyes.
“Hi, little onion knight.”
“Onion Private,” I corrected.
She scoffed.